Like Whaaat lyrics

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Like Whaaat lyrics

Posted on April 25, 2013

{League of Starz}..{Sorry Jaynari}

[Problem]Who dat, talkin ’bout, who datRun up on me, you getcha ass beat blue blackGet on ya nerve, I’m off the curbPush mountains of herb, you niggaz already heardThe bro Berg, keep a +Pistol Grip Pump+ on his lap at all timeWhatever however, cause young niggaz stay tryinSee ’em and be like HUH.. nigga, WHAT?HUH! Give a fuck like WHAAAT~!Blow my weed, smash the gas, hop up in my lane She be lookin way different thru these thousand dollars framesM-M-Millionaire mind, fuck the thousand dollars brainThousand dollar lame only get loud around his gang-ass nigga(What what) ass nigga (what what)Compton f’real, you ain’t gotta ask nigga (naw)Floatin through the city like I’m on a raft niggaMike Vick with the shit, I don’t need a pass, nigga(Like what dat shit do?)

[Chorus: Problem]Yeah, I’m just doin my thang Fingers in the sky, b-b-bangin my gangLike, ohhh, go and fall backcause you don’t want no pro’lems like thatCause we gon’ be like HUH.. nigga, WHAT?HUH! Give a fuck, nigga WHAAAT~!And they gon’ be like HUH.. nigga, WHAT?HUH! Give a fuck, nigga WHAAAT~!And they gon’ be like..

[Problem]Ya money funny, you a clownYa bitch hit me up then I’m prol’ly goin downIt depends on how much of that shit I just hadPill cool but I prefer my MDMA by the bagHeavy hitter right here, all you other niggaz jabsBig talkin ’bout beef ’til you serve they ass a slabDo the math, hoes clash, cause I got them yellin “WOO~!” like FlairWhen I’m done they always ask, +HOW YA DO DAT DERE+!(Hol’ up! What) Word to Master P and Young BleedI pull ya bitch she try to kick it fast as Chun-LiCause I’m a +Pimp C+/see, word to Bun BUnderground King, no checker, shout out to the bitch pressin(Yeah, the weightlifters) r-r-reppin +Cal+ like RipkenOn fire right now, P burnin, no syphilisS-S-Strap it up, you murder the pussyReal beef, you don’t talk, you just murder a pussy, see me?

[Chorus]

[Bad Lucc]Who dat? I betcha lady knew datShe say he got a ticket on the molly, mami do dat (do dat!)Chunkin with my round diamond lean I thought you knew datPound half-Raider, hunnid sixes is where we grew datSee me on the 10 with my squad, we so trillor uptown with them foolish niggaz, choppin by the millI do it for my bros on lock, them hoes on stockI used to whip Pirellis back when Nelly was on topNow it’s 442, my packa bang, rewind it My bitch is +Red+ as the +Hanas+, throw back on them YokohamasI’ma slam on the scraper, you touch the paper it’s go Be at ya grante fo’ sho’, these hoes is thinkin it’s snowI get it goin my nig, I blow the horn, is you ready?Disrespectful? Nigga please, I’m the one with the fettiI’m goin out with a bang, it’s Lane on the chainI just show ’em with diamonds nigga, cause Lane is the gang!YAH MEAN!